Harry Potter and the World of Cultivation
by Travesti
Summary: The Man-Who-Conquered has lived a full life and is moving on to the Next Great Adventure. Born to parents of humble origins, Harry Potter must learn to navigate this strange new world. But when he's not yet four, a strange master takes interest in him. What happened to his peaceful days of lazing about and keeping a low profile?
1. The Boy-Who-Lived — Again

The wand, the stone and the cloak. These three items were situated in front of him in an orderly fashion. He studied them meticulously. He's seen over a century of peace pass by since the last battle. Nothing happened even when he used all three items, met death, and was revived. Was the tale of the three brothers a myth after all?

Ah, well. These peaceful days were nice after a lifetime's worth of excitement and adventure.

"Grandpa?" A mop of unruly black hair peeked through the opening of the door.

He smiled, "Come in Hadrian. Come give Grandpa a hug."

With a bright grin, the boy ran up and jumped on the bed, narrowly missing the three Hallows. Well, there's no harm since they were nothing special anyways. He snatched up the wand and tapped Hadrian's head, turning the boy a noxious purple. He also sprouted a grey beard and a scaly tail.

"Cool!" Hadrian giggled and glommed the elderly man, "Now I have dragon pox just like Siri!"

"Don't show your mom now."

"I won't!" He promised, though he launched out of bed and ran off to wreak havoc. Harry watched his namesake with fondness. Although he'd taught him well, Hadrian would very likely be caught and his poor mother would probably turn accusing eyes on him. It was quite well-known that ickle Hadrian shared many of his grandpa's traits, notwithstanding his marauding tendencies.

With a sigh, Harry leaned back into the pillows and rested his eyes. It wouldn't be long before his short-lived peace would be disturbed. In the moment he'd drifted off to sleep, a black miasma shrouded the room. The occupants of the Potter manor remained wholly unaware.

A skeletal finger tapped the temple of the sleeping Harry. He woke suddenly, and greeted death with a wry smile.

"Hullo again."

"Curious," A rasping voice intoned. The hooded figure was not unlike a dementor. The sound of rattling chains accompanied his every breath. "Why are you smiling?"

"Well, it's been a while. I've been expecting you."

"Yes," Death leaned closer. His breath smelled surprisingly of crisp autumn leaves and birchbark. "You've escaped me many times. You can escape me no longer."

Yet the wry smile did not fall from his aged face. He hummed slightly in agreement, "My mentor once said that death is but the next great adventure."

Death straightened and his next words hinted at amusement. "Ah, yes. Albus Dumbledore. A quirky fellow, that one. He kept his little indulgences up until the end."

"Quirky, yes. I'd like to think so."

Death paused. The black swirling mist freezing along with it. The passing of this man was a momentous occasion indeed. It called for celebration. The hooded figure crooked a bony finger and two glasses of Ogden's finest appeared on the bedside table. It lifted one in salute, and rasped, "To Dumbledore, then."

Harry picked up the second glass. "To the next great adventure."

As he sipped, he missed the mysterious glint that flashed across Death's features. He smiled tiredly and his eyes slipped closed. It was a good day to die.

Not long after the black miasma had faded, a woman dangling her tail-rearing son by the scruff of his collar entered the room. Her features stormy and her gaze formidable. "Dad," she called, "you—"

One glance at the closed eyes, the stillness of the man's chest, and the odd angle of his arm — as though reaching out for something — told her that he had passed on unexpectedly though peacefully.

Later that day, the news rocked the foundations of the wizarding world. Harry Potter had died.

* * *

The next he woke, Harry felt an unbearable itch spread across his body. He couldn't open his eyes and his limbs felt clumsy and weak. But the itch was soon relieved as a damp cloth washed over his body.

"Ah Yue! Ah Yue!" A soft and tender voice called. He would've replied 'Bless you' if he could.

"Ah Yue, look at our son! He's so precious." Harry was moved and enveloped in a comforting warmth and soft fragrance. The speaker was close by. His mother? Perhaps this was his next life.

"He's too small and weak." A deep masculine voice replied. Something like disappointment laced his tone, "He may not survive his next winter."

This Ah Yue character had some nerve! Determining his fate right after he was out of the womb! After a lifetime of dealing with similar people, this was one characteristic he could not stomach.

"Oh hush!" His mother rebuked, "My Yu'er will grow up strong and healthy. He'll be the most beautiful boy in the city! You'll see!"

Harry's tiny face scrunched up in disdain. Mother! He didn't want to be beautiful!

She noticed, "Oh look, you've distressed him. Out with you. Out."

Acquiesingly, the man closed the screen door as he left. His mother rocked him in her arms. The easy warmth and soft humming soon lulled him to sleep. This brave new world, he didn't hate it. On the contrary, if he could enjoy the comfort of a mother's embrace, he might soon come to love this world.

Contrary to Ah Yue's belief, Harry —Yu'er— did survive the next winter, and the winters after that. He fell sick with high fever after the first harsh winds hit but recovered quickly. Despite that, the physician predicted that the bout would affected his metabolism and muscle growth. It seemed he would remain tragically short for this lifetime too.

After three years of careful child-rearing, Harry's unusual intellect and talent stood out. Although smaller and shorter, he quickly outshone his peers in speech, mannerisms, and understanding. While others found interest in playing ball in the main courtyard, little Harry was found buried behind books in the main library. Where and when he had learned to read was a mystery.

Harry found the new culture fascinating. Having never had the opportunity to travel to distant countries, Harry wholly immersed himself in learning everything he could. He discovered that the people, environment and culture here were remarkably similar to that of ancient Asian civilizations. Too bad he never had the opportunity for contact in his past life.

Children were expected to learn, from a young age, the martial _dao_ (way). Unlike the different forms of martial arts like kung fu and tai chi, these martial dao were passed down generation to generation within families or clans. These methods were coveted and secreted away. Thus, orphans or outsiders had no methods to practice and could only rely on their innate talent. In addition, children of nobility, or with means, were expected to master the four art forms before adulthood. These were: painting, literature, poetry & calligraphy, and playing the qin. The more one excelled in a particular subject, the further they were encouraged to master it. Talent was pursued. Also, it seemed that these sissy talents were a plus on the side of wooing girls. Since he was not yet four, he was not forced into studying with his brothers.

He stood up and stretched his tiny arms. He needed a step stool but he could just reach the next shelf to replace the text he'd borrowed. It had grown dark outside and if he wanted to continue reading, he'd have to burn daylight oil, which was expensive. Oil lamps were already a luxury in this small rural town. Even the library couldn't really be called a library. It was more of a room with a few shelves of books on history, war strategy and cultural practices. Books were short on hand and a luxury of the times. When he exited the book room, he saw a familiar figure from afar.

"Mama!" He cried, and ran up to her. Only she was a he —and quite obviously not his mother. The man had sharp black eyes, a pointed chin and thin brows. His silky black hair was pulled into a high bun, the rest flowing down to his waist. He looked neat in a way which seemed meticulously put-together, and Harry was reminded of Lucius Malfoy who probably spent hours grooming his appearance.

Although boys wore their hair short, or in buns, that would change too. Noblemen wore their hair long, down their backs in black curtains of silk. It made it hard for Harry to tell from behind whether an adult was made or female. Moreover, men and women wore long floor-length robes with full sleeves that brushed the ground as they walked. This man happened to be wearing the same light blue shade as his mother.

"Who are you, child? To think he mistook this gentleman for a woman, he must be an exceptionally dimwitted child."

This manner of referring to oneself and others in third person was commonly used between strangers or in polite speech. The man was cold and expressionless, slight disdain evident in his tone. He loomed and the fact that little Harry only came up to this man's knees did not bode well.

Harry froze.

Seeing that the child was mum, the man impatiently tsked, "Come." He grabbed the tiny arm and tugged the boy along. Harry nearly fell and his short legs struggled to keep up with the stranger's brisk pace. When he nearly fell for the third time, the man whisked him up and settled him into one arm, never breaking stride.

There was all manner of strange men and women in this small town. None of them ever treated children with care like his doting mother. This was partly the reason why Harry and many of the other clan children didn't venture out of the compound. The other reason being that the small town was situated on the highway between two large cities and, the governance being less stringent than larger cities, seemed to attract crime. It wasn't rare of for children to disappear off the streets after dusk. Although, it was unheard of for a child to disappear from the safe walls of the clan compound since there were bound to be adults patrolling around at this time.

Petrified, Harry perched stiffly on the man's arm as he navigated through the winding corridors with practiced ease. Should he scream for help? What if this man was a human trafficker? Harry was smaller than most kids and his body couldn't handle grunt work. He wouldn't last a month as a slave. Should he plead for mercy?

Harry still hadn't made a move when they finally stopped at a set of wooden double doors. He'd never been in this area of the compound before. The man directly threw open the doors without so much as a knock and set Harry down in the middle of the room. There were a dozen chairs situated around a long polished table. At the head of the table sat a wizened elderly man with an impressively long white beard. This must be the conference room.

"This boy," he directed a sleeve at Harry and announced to the gathering, "I want this boy."

Several murmurs broke out as the adults in the room craned their necks to see the tiny child nearly hidden behind the man's long sleeve. Many expressed their surprise but no one was more shocked than little Harry. He knew it! He was going to be sold off to slavery!

"This child," the clan elder stroked his beard in thought, "he's Ah Yue's youngest son, is he not?"

One of the men cupped his hands and respectfully bowed, "Yes, Elder. He is Kamitani Yu and is not yet four winters." There was an undertone of disproval as he glanced at the child who was not paying attention. Harry was seemingly staring at nothing while desperately thinking up ways to get out of his impending slavery.

The stranger-slave trafficker flicked his sleeves and then folded them with a cold 'hmph.'

Ah Yue, whom Harry just noticed was in the room, stepped up and addressed the Elder. "Father, this is indeed my son. However, he is weak and frail. When he was a babe, he suffered from high fever and will forever be smaller than the other children."

'Yes, father! Save me from an early death in slavery!' Harry inwardly crowed. He never saw much of his father, other than the occasional time he came to visit his mother since they had separate rooms and quote, 'father was busy' but now he saw his father in a new light.

But the man cut off the elder before he opened his mouth, "I will have this child. That is final."

This seemed to shock many in the room, but no one dared to refute his claim. Even his father Ah Yue was reluctant to speak before he was called upon. Harry's heart sank heavily in despair.

"Now, now, Great Master," the Elder, as peacekeeper, had no choice but to step in. "Please consider the boy's age. His meridians have not fully developed and his health is not so good either. It would impede progress should you take him in as he is."

Great Master! Harry froze in shock. This stranger looked not more than thirty. His clothes didn't look particularly rich or princely either. But judging on the respect the Elder showed him, the way men older than him seemed reluctant to upset him, he must be someone special.

The Great Master hummed noncommittally, "This is true." He seemed to glance down at Harry, who met his eyes with curiosity. There was a slight twitch of his lips before he knelt down to Harry's height —to the great dismay and shocked gasps of everybody present.

"What say you, child? Do you want to go with me?"

Harry, who finding no hint of his intention in that calm gaze, seemed to think over his answer. He had not outgrown the doting care of his mother yet. He wanted to experience more of his small world before he deemed himself ready to explore the world outside. But he didn't want to upset this great man. He lowered his eyes and cautiously replied, "This one is too young and inexperienced."

It seemed like the right thing to say. The man smiled for the first time. Everyone around blew out a breath of relief when suddenly the stranger threw his head back with a loud and raucous laugh. He looked crazed and Harry was startled out of his wits. Every man in the room held his breath when the Great Master finally calmed down.

"I like you, Kamitani Yu. Dimwitted and honest," He chuckled. He stood up and addressed the disbelieving onlookers with abrupt aloofness, "When five years have come to pass, this great one shall return for this child. If any harm has come to him before that time, your Kami clan will know what it is to long for Hell at Heaven's gates [1]."

Harry was horrified. He wasn't safe. His sentence had just been delayed!

Despite the obvious threat, all the adults cupped their hands and bowed in respect. Yu'er's father had to push Harry's head down to remind him to bow.

"Thank you for gracing us with this honour, Great Master." The Elder also bowed as the man left without so much as a 'by your leave.'

Harry was astounded. These people acted as though it were a blessing rather than a threat! Who was this Great Master?

* * *

[1] "To long for Hell at Heaven's gates" : means to be at death's door, unable to die, wanting reprieve. (I totally made this up, but it sounds cool, doesn't it? LOL.)

The prefix 'Ah' is used between close and familiar friends and family for someone of the same age or younger. The suffix 'er' is a term of endearment, usually meaning son.


	2. The Boy-Who-Just-Wanted-to-Be-Normal

By morning the next day, Yu'er, who was happily escorting —holding hands with— his mother to the dining hall, finally noticed the strange stares and whispers that followed them. He stopped at the doors.

"Mama?" He had to crane his head up to meet her eyes. She wasn't tall but Yu'er was so small he barely reached her waist. He tilted his head in question, "Are people staring at us?"

When he glanced at the room, all the gazes quickly turned away. He couldn't tell if it was his imagination. Maybe he was being too sensitive?

His mother laughed softly. When her husband had carried her darling Yu'er back to their rooms yesterday, she was delightfully surprised. It was the first time Ah Yue had initiated contact with Yu'er. His gaze had softened considerably and there was something indescribable in his demeanour toward their son. She knew Yu'er had noticed as well. Her baby was so intelligent!

Last night after the honoured guest had taken his leave, the clan head called a meeting with the family heads and seemed to discuss some new circumstances surrounding her son. Despite the details being strictly confidential to those of the inner circle, all outer members of the clan were still ordered to treat Yu'er well. This was all she knew, but it was enough for her as a mother to be satisfied with the situation. People were probably wondering what Yu'er had done to win the favour of the patriarch who had a reputation for being hard-to-please. They certainly weren't being very subtle.

"Come, Yu'er. The lunch line is this way." She calmly bypassed the stares and approached the head cook. Yu'er gazed at his mother with awe and trepidation. She normally wore a gentle smile, even when she was provoked into one of her rare upset moods. He'd never seen her like this; with her head high, features aloof, gracefully gliding across the floor, she looked every bit the refined lady — even with a small child on her arm.

Kamitani Mei was one of the most beautiful women in the clan; with wavy jet black hair that brought out her porcelain skin, the elegant slope of her nose and fine brows. Even her lips resembled delicate petals. Yet her most distinctive feature —ones that Yu'er shared— were her brilliant green eyes. Many coveted her beauty and her husband. Ah Yue, despite his cold demeanour, adored her dearly for her gentle disposition. It could be said that they Kamitani Yue and Kamitani Mei made a very handsome couple.

Not one to stoke the flames of jealousy, Mei rarely made an appearance. But today her handmaids who normally brought her and Yu'er lunch were busy organizing a surprise birthday party for Yu'er. In honour of his recent good fortune, it would be a larger celebration than usual.

"Mei'er," called one of the cooks, "it's rare to see you here."

"Sansan!" She greeted the cook with enthusiasm, pulling Yu'er in front of her. "This is my youngest, Yu'er." This was the cook who had known her since she entered the clan and now regularly sent food up to them.

"Greetings ma'am."

"Oh none of that now," The cook laughed jovially, her belly jiggling with her. "I'm not old enough to be called ma'am yet! Call me Sansan-jie."

Understandably, the surrounding eavesdroppers all paled slightly in disdain. The suffix '-jie' means older sister and is typically used for older female friends or relatives. To hear an older woman calling herself such— well, what an eccentric person. Yu'er laughed awkwardly.

While his mother chatted with Sansan, Yu'er glanced around the dining hall. The windows on the south and east bathed the room in the warmth of the early morning sun. There were low squarish tables with cushioned seating for four spread throughout the spacious room, with capacity for maybe 50 people. It was then Yu'er noticed that more seats had been claimed from the time he and Mama entered. There were at least four-fold the number of occupants, which was strange since there was quite some time until lunch was ready. What's more, many of those occupants seemingly "minding-their-own-business" were stealing covert glances in their direction. It wasn't his imagination after all!

He wondered if these newcomers were called over by their friends to admire his mother's beauty. Did these people have nothing better to do? Little Yu's face scrunched up in thought.

He was wholly unaware of the pointed gazes drilling holes in his back. This was the child who pleased that white-bearded wizened old man? He was tiny! Pint-sized! The _inugami_ (dog god) statues at the main gate were larger than him! Reasonable theories of his valour and talent were quickly thrown out the window. This miniature human must have cheated somehow! Maybe he took credit for something his father did for the patriarch?

If Yu'er could read the thoughts of those present, he would surely spit up blood [1].

His mother accepted a tray of food and led little Yu to a nearby table.

"Mama," he pulled at her sleeve for attention. "People _are_ staring at us."

"It's alright Yu'er," she placated, "They're just hungry and are staring at the food we have. We're lucky to know Sansan to be able to eat lunch early."

Astonished, his petite hand froze on her sleeve. Mother —she was too oblivious! No, no, no. Mother really _was_ observant; she made sure he ate all his green peppers even when he thought he'd done a good job of hiding them. Maybe it was customary for beautiful women to disregard their impact so as to live normally? Selective observation?! [2]

"Here's your spoon, Yu'er. Pay attention to your food." Mei shook her head. Was it so rare that Yu'er went outside their rooms that he was distracted by everything? She frowned mildly. Perhaps she should encourage him to interact with the other children more. Recently he'd been sticking closely to her side or secluded in the library. He needed expand his social circle. Yes, she thought, that was what she would do.

* * *

As great women oft do, she put her plan into effect immediately.

That afternoon, the enthralling text in his hands was snatched up and Yu'er was shooed outside with the command to "Go play with the other children, darling." She then promptly slammed the door in his face. He stood outside their door in shock for a moment. That was the second time today his mother had done something out-of-character!

With no where else to go, Yu walked to the courtyard with no small amount of trepidation. How was he supposed to 'play' with the other children? He felt so awkward just talking with them.

He wound through the long corridors until he reached a courtyard no larger than a quidditch pitch. It was surrounded by open corridors on three sides and a beautiful red pavilion on the far side. The grass here was meticulously groomed, a large fountain featured in the middle of the square. There were three smaller children off to the side who looked to be drawing in the dirt and four children playing ball, getting perilously closer to the large fountain in the middle. He quickly made his decision and approached the three.

"Hello," he attempted a smile, the perpetual awkwardness resurfacing. "Can I play too?" He did his best to imitate a childish lilt. To what degree of success, he had no idea.

The older two seemed to exchange glances but the youngest unthinkingly chirped, "Sure!" The duo shrugged and returned to their drawings.

Yu inwardly sighed in relief. Infiltration: success.

"So, what are you drawing? Is that a house?"

The small girl pouted at him. "No! This is the alphabet! Can't you tell?"

Landmine! Quickly retreat!

"O-of course it is! You have great penmanship!"

She seemed to accept it and latched onto the compliment, "My brothers are teaching me to write and I'm only 4 years old! Aren't I great!"

"Amazing," he applauded. Though it sounded a little patronizing even to his own ears, she didn't notice.

"Here, I can teach you too."

"Ah, I already know how to write."

"What?" All three children looked stunned. Yu had smaller stature than the girl. He couldn't be older than four. Yet he knew how to write? There was only one person in the clan with that talent. Adults typically do not watch their mouths in front of children. So, they had heard from their offhand remarks that there was a young boy who spent his time reading the heavy tomes in the library. This prodigy could already read and write and had a bright future. He would no doubt bring honour to their clan.

But this kid looked like a girl, with short messy black hair. His features were more fine than even their sister. There's no way he could be Kamitani Yu! He had to be bluffing to impress them.

"Prove it." The boy with short cropped brown hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose stared at him.

Whoops. Once again, his tendency to not watch his words has caused undue trouble. In this case, it'd be better to come out with the truth lest they find out that he lied.

Yu sighed but obligingly picked up a twig of his own to write a verse or two. Next to the girl's attempts, his chicken scratch looked like an elegant scrawl. The two boys leaned over and read: " _When the winds of change blow, some people build walls and others build windmills._ "

The boy with a all of his hair pulled into a high ponytail frowned, "What is a— wind-mills?"

Yu replied, "It's a building that harvests the wind for energy."

Freckles looked down at him in awe, "You _are_ Kamitani Yu."

Yu frowned. Did someone say he wasn't?

All three abandoned their _chirography_ (penmanship) practice in favour of asking him questions on the meaning of his proverb. As their tutor made no sense and used too many adult words, their enthusiasm was to be expected since this was someone who could finally explain difficult phrases to them in uncomplicated terms!

However, the ruckus was noticed by the boys playing kick ball. The tallest and oldest, most likely the leader, sneered at them disdainfully. He nodded discreetly at one of the other boys who smirked maliciously and kicked the ball into their group. The balls in this era were nothing like the soft foam balls or cushioned, air-filled balls of his past life. This ball was made with a thick layer of rubber, at least one-inch. It didn't bounce and left bruises in its wake. Thus, children only ever kicked the ball with their thick soles. Little girls with their silk slippers couldn't play kick ball.

Freckles was at perfect angle to see the incoming ball and roughly pushed Yu and the girl aside. "Pu!" he exhaled as the ball hit his side at full impact. Yu and the girl tripped over themselves and fell, dirty but unharmed. Freckles was not so lucky. He hit the ground heavily winded and rolled onto his uninjured side.

"Shun!" Ponytail cried and the girl whipped her head around to glare at the perpetrators.

"You! Why did you do that!"

"Heh," the leader stepped up and jeered. "Who told you to be so loud and obnoxious. You ingrates are just scullions. We're just reminding you of your status. Be grateful and receive this lesson." The other boys snickered under their breaths.

Ponytail paled and slapped a hand over his sister's mouth when she moved to retort. Yu dazedly stood and dusted himself off. Who the heck? That was cruel and uncalled for. These crazy hatstands [3] were just bullies.

With a tight grimace and eyes squeezed shut from the pain, Shun also struggled upright and —to Yu's shock— bowed his head to the leader and shouted, "Thank you for the lesson! Young Master Chu!"

"Remember it well. Next time I won't let you off so lightly." Came the snide remark. Young master Chu redirected his gaze to the unfamiliar kid gaping at him. How irritating.

"You! With the stubby legs! Fetch the ball, now."

Yu belatedly realized that he was being addressed. His sense of righteous indignation flared. There was nothing that he hated more than a bully who picked on the weak. His first instinct was to knock some sense into this Chu-choo train-wreck. He never shied away from confronting bullies or calling out the facts straight. But then he had a better idea.

He trotted over to the ball which had rolled under a nearby porch. It was so low and narrow that he could barely reach an arm in. He reached and, in clear view of the bullies, punched the ball so it rolled further into the dark unknown, out of view and far, far out of reach. There. The weapon-of-choice was now eliminated and the bullies had lost the privilege of playing with the ball. If they abused it, they would lose it. That was how he taught his children and grandchildren. He slowly stood up, leisurely brushing the dirt off his clothes and looked at the bullies.

"Oops." Yu smirked.

Several things happened all at once. The bullies roared in outrage, storming over to him. Freckles and Ponytail gasped in horror, the latter releasing his sister by accident. The girl took the opportunity to let out a shrill, ear-bursting scream.

Yu quickly dodged the larger boys chasing after him. He ran to the other side of the large fountain and kept it between them, looking for an opening. He knew his limits. His body was too small to handle any one of these guys, let alone four. His only choice was to wait for help. Within minutes, his cunning paid off and adults arrived on the scene. Three men followed behind a scruffy, buff man.

"Hey! You kids! What happened here?"

Yu ran over to the scruffy bearded man and hid between his legs. The four bullies had no practice in hiding their evil grimaces from adults and were openly sneering at the tiny, nearly-hidden child. One of the boys was the first branch's eldest son, the Kamizou heir. Since he was their only male heir, he was a pampered and spoiled child, used to getting his way and always making trouble for others. It was pretty easy to glean the gist of the situation.

Young Master Chu was the first to make himself heard. "These lowbreds were causing a scene. Out of kindness, I gave them a warning but that one actually dared to steal my ball and threw it under the porch." He spoke with defiance and rudely pointed his finger at Yu, as though daring him to retort.

Knowing Heir Kamizou's personality, the truthfulness of his explanation was highly unlikely. But if he were to scold the first young master, no doubt the first branch master and mistress would hear about it. The three children off to the side were from the fifth branch. Their father passed away many years ago, and their mother was an outsider who married into the clan. Their status was inconsequential. If these children had provoked the young master first, he could make them submit to appease the young master and avoid facing the wrath of the first branch. He'd made his decision.

"You children," Scruffy-beard's voice boomed with authority, "apologize to the young master. Then we can let bygones be bygones." He smiled magnanimously and waited expectantly for them to acquiesce.

No one was more surprised by this turn of events than Yu. Was there no justice? That bully clearly insulted those other children in front of everyone!

The girl looked like she was going to shriek indignantly but Shun covered her mouth. Beside them, his brother grit his teeth and shoved the girl's head down as they bowed. "It was our mistake. We humbly ask Young Master Chu to accept this apology."

"No!" Young Master Chu stubbornly stuck his dirty finger in Yu's direction. "He stole the property of this young master! He should be caned! How will he repay me for taking my property?"

All eyes shifted to little Yu who had moved out from behind Scruffy-beard. He had seen an adult's 'authority' and had come to the realization that he could only rely on himself.

"I didn't steal it," he said with great confidence.

None of the adults believed he did either. How could this tiny, stunted child steal a ball from four bigger and stronger children? But they had no choice if they wanted to appease the young master.

"Perhaps," Scruffy-beard allowed, "But you have to compensate the young master for his ball. Tell me who your father is and we will have him settle the matter of payment."

Yu frowned but he had nothing to hide. His father would understand if he explained the circumstances. He calmly stated, "Kamitani Yue."

Kamitani Yue? These men knew the faces of the second branch's first and second sons. There was only one other. This little boy had to be the youngest son of the second branch, the prodigious and talented Kamitani Yu. They didn't know the circumstances but had recently heard that little Yu had greatly pleased the Patriarch to the extent where the great elder had declared preferential treatment for Yu'er in the clan. His backer was of a different level of distinction! The faces of all four men paled and they immediately backtracked.

"Oh! So you are little Yu'er," the frowning face of Scruffy-beard had morphed into an ingratiating smile.

"Since it's like this, why don't we let the matter rest? After all, it was a mistake, and it is good to give our juniors a second chance. It is the mark of a good heir to be merciful, Young Master Chu. The children have apologized and I'm sure your parents will buy you a new ball right away."

Since it was resolved like that, Kamizou Chu couldn't do much else without kicking up a big fuss. He was reluctant to cause a scene because his parents would find out he had been playing ball when he was supposed to be indoors, studying. Recently, Father had berated him on his poor grades and restricted his play time. If word of this got back to Father, he would be grounded for sure. He would have to pretend to lose his ball tomorrow and beg his parents for another.

"Fine," Chu spat out. Internally, he raged and by the vengeful gleam in his eye, Yu knew that Kamizou Chu had not let him off. In fact, all four bullies were glaring at him. When Yu looked at their malicious features, his expression changed imperceptibly.

Once Scruffy-beard heard his father's name, the attitude of the men did a one-eighty. From the attitude of these men, it seemed even children weren't exempt from clan politics. Yu _hated_ politics. It gave people like Chu the leverage to be cruel. It made the mindset of these political players mercurial. It stripped sensibility and justice from figures of authority. It made certain that the underprivileged and marginalized always lose out.

The man turned his attention to Yu, now that the more obstinate young master had agreed. "Since it's been settled, let's not mention this matter again, okay?"

But how could _he_ , after a lifetime of dealing with treachery and foul play, be so easily tricked? They obviously wanted to gloss over young master's maltreatment of the other children. If nothing happened during their watch, they were safe. But if he didn't mention this, Chu's bad behaviour would continue unchecked and he would fester like a sore on Yu's foot.

Yu smiled and chirped brightly, "Okay!"

Unsuspecting, the four burly men sighed in relief. Children were fickle: easy to change moods, easy to forget. They didn't think this tiny child would cause them trouble. They quickly took leave. The three bullies also trailed after Kamizou Chu out the courtyard.

"Hey!" The girl had struggled out of her brother's chokehold. "You saved u—"

Shun slapped a hand over her mouth again and bowed to Yu.

"Thank you for your help, Young Master Yu. But please, in the future, don't bother with us."

With that, Freckles and Ponytail carted off their sister. Yu was left alone in the empty courtyard.

Friends: 0. Enemies: 4.

Was a normal childhood too much to ask?

* * *

[1] Spitting blood : popular phrase used to connote the shock delivered to one's system that even damages internal organs to the point of blood spewing out of the mouth. The Japanese equivalent is the milder form of the spittake or spitting tea.

[2] Selective observation : an informal fallacy where supporting evidence is picked and counter-evidence is ignored (also known as cherry picking or cards stacking).

[3] Hatstand : informal slang for crazy (British).

Will it confuse people if I continue to use Yu and Harry interchangeably?


	3. The-Boy-Who-Got-Revenge — Marauder-Style

"Come morning, come sunshine~ Yu'er, darling, are you up yet?"

Yu's little messy head of hair popped out of the blankets. With piles of pillows, blankets and throws surrounding him like a nest, he looked like a baby chick.

Mei Kamitani giggled. Of her three sons, her youngest was her darling. The other two were also her babies but they had grown up and no longer clung onto her robes, calling 'Mama!' like they used to. Perhaps it was due to the social rules of the time. When boys grew up, they eventually became estranged from their mothers, adopting martial attitudes and valuing the opinions of their peers. It was only her youngest baby that still wanted to be coddled and didn't mind her fussing.

He stared dazedly at his mother and yawned widely, still shaking off the vestiges of sleep. He let his mother pull him up to get ready with a soft "Let's go, darling." Mother seemed more giddy today.

Blue skies dusted with clouds and the occasional songbird made for a peaceful atmosphere. For once his father joined them at the pavilion for breakfast. He observed the taciturn man and noted that, though very subtle, the slight quick of his lips belied the same giddiness of his mother. Only when they finished eating did his father speak, surprising Yu'er with a pat on the head.

"Brush your hair. It's unsightly. Who knows who you got it from."

His first comment to him and with it was an insult. Goodness, it would kill the man to show any fondness to his son. Little Yu tugged the ends of his unruly hair with grievance. He completely missed the amused smiles his parents shot over his head.

His father left with a curt nod to his mother.

Yu brushed his unnecessarily long sleeves to the side as the maids helped him change. These sleeves only got longer and stupidly clunky as one got older.

Yu followed his mother to the banquet hall, where the celebration for his fourth birthday would take place. Several clan members had pushed the clan elders for an introduction to the little prodigy who pleased the clan patriarch, who, in turn demanded his mother to organize the whole affair. Since this fortuitous affair happened to coincide his fourth birthday, it would be jointly celebrated by the clan.

Little Yu loathed publicity and crowds, both of which this event would have plenty. It was all clan politics. Ambitious adults, a pliable, four-year old prodigy, and an overprotective mama-bear in the same room. What could go wrong?Though, his mother had promised that he would be freed from the clutches of these vultures after he was introduced to the clan by the clan patriarch. His words, not hers. He had schem- plans, ahem that's right, plans he'd made yesterday after an insightful conversation with his mother.

* * *

"So, Yu'er, tell mama about your day. Did you make any friends?" His mother pushed her face right up in his face. Her glistening green eyes and happy smile made his spirits dim a little.

"Ah." A non-answer. He paused thoughtfully. "Mama, do we have any bruise cream?"

"What? Why? Yu'er, are you hurt? Let mother see." His mother immediately panicked, pulling her tiny son over and divesting him of his layers.

"Not me, Mama!" Yu'er struggled out of her reach. "It's for one of the other children."

He'd noticed Shun (AKA Freckles) wincing when he whisked his sister away.

"Oh?" Kamitani Mei's eyes flashed with intrigue. "Did you make a friend, darling?"

"Not a friend." He explained the matter of the bullying to her, but left out the promise he made to the guards. They mistook his intentions: he wouldn't mention it to anyone, but he also wouldn't hide anything from his mother. Even if he didn't bring the matter to the higher-ups, he still had his methods. Every debt would be collected, and every favour repaid. It was only fair.

"I see."

Mei pulled aside the screen door and pulled one of the maids over with instructions to bring the bruise cream to the Fifth Branch's residence. Although Yu didn't know the names of the brothers and sister, it was easy deduction. Only core clan members are allowed into the inner courtyards. The only family with two sons and a daughter was the fifth branch of the main family who had recently lost their master to a wild boar attack. It was a shame; after such a grave loss, the new widow and her children were bullied by not only other clan members but by their own relations. A prime example of throwing rocks at someone who's fallen down a well [1].

His mother seemed to ponder this for a while as she pulled him into her lap and rested her chin on his mop of unruly black hair. The tiny Yu'er fit snuggly in her arms. Hugs were one thing that he loved and had in abundance in this life. He was truly lucky.

Since he loathed politics with a passion, clan politics included, he would let his mother decide what to do about the guards. The parents of Kamizou Chu (the bully) were another matter altogether. Parenting strategies will forever be a matter of dispute and a sensitive topic. It would be difficult for his mother or father to mention Kamizou Chu's behaviour without offending the First branch. As Chu was their only young master, he was doted, smiled sweetly upon, and praised to the high heavens and back. He was spoiled rotten.

Let adults frolic and politick with the other adults. Yu would take on the bullying matter himself. He would pursue justice the marauder's way.

* * *

The tiny doll-like Yu waited patiently outside the redwood doors. He could easily make out the patriarch's low, raspy voice in his usual rambling speech from where he stood. _Gather today, joyous celebration, numerous accomplishments, makes the clan proud,_ blah, blah, blah. Finally, he heard his cue.

"Without further ado, this old man would like to introduce our clan's young prodigy, Kamitani Yu."

He pushed the double doors open with a flourish of his sleeves and walked in with a strong gait. Or, at least, he tried to but he was unused to the floor-length hem of his robes and his foot snagged the edge of the fabric causing him to stumble. How embarrassing. All the same, he pushed through and walked through to crowd of grownups to join his mother and the patriarch at the front of the room.

Unknown to little Yu, his 'majestic' impression was dashed from the start. To the room, he seemed a small, adorable animal. It didn't help that he was tiny and dwarfed by his formal robes. " _You'll grow into them, darling,_ " his mom had said.

The adults were inwardly cooing at the tiny Yu who, trying his best to imitate a young Draco Malfoy, turned up his chin as though trying to look down on the crowd despite his two-feet of height.

"Yu'er," the old patriarch continued, "will be allowed to join the boys under Ryuunosuke-sensei."

This statement issued fervent whispering and harsh gasps among the crowd. Apparently a 4-year-old joining a class of 5-year-olds and 6-year-olds could shock this group of grownups. Despite the general unease, only one man stepped up to address the elders. It was the same hallow-looking, sunken-eyed man who had disagreed with the stranger-cum-master-cum-child-trafficker who'd tried to take him away.

"Patriarch," he joined the trio on the slightly raised platform, "if I may speak."

"Kajima," the patriarch replied with obvious displeasure, "You may."

"I think I speak for the majority of the clan when I say that little Yu is too young. There is no reason for him to join his seniors prematurely. And despite his _supposed_ genius, he still has a year of his childhood to enjoy."

"Kajima," the patriarch stopped him, "Little Yu has proven himself on numerous occasions. Moreover, I am told he spends his free time in the study, of his own will. There is little need for him to continue his studies without guidance."

"It is presupposed that the child studies of his own free will. His mother-"

"This is your own presupposition? Then let's ask the child. Yu'er," the patriarch looked down, "do you like studying?"

"Yes, patriarch." He answered. The patriarch beamed at him as though he answered correctly.

"And do you study of your own will?"

"Yes, patriarch."

The patriarch stroked his beard with a content nod. "As it should be of every child."

"Yes, but sir, he has yet to prove himse-"

"Kajima," The old patriarch turned a stern gaze onto the man, having lost patience with him. "He has proven himself to _me_. There is no need for you to doubt his capabilities - unless you doubt my judgement?" His eyes narrowed threateningly.

Kajima, thoroughly cowed, backed down, "No, patriarch. Please forgive my impudence."

The old man returned to stroking his beard with a juvenile "humph!" Since the old man refused to say more, the other clan elders took over and called the clan to resume festivities. Yu was permitted to join the other children at the very last table for the meal. Although the table was full, none of the children initiated conversation with him. Children were afraid of and easily shunned new people. He himself didn't remember how to act like a child let alone interact with some. He sighed to himself. It was hard being a child.

After dinner, adults mingled and pickled while children were left to their own devices. Which, for Yu, meant he was free to wreak hav- cough, execute his plan, right. He was coughing quite a bit today. Hopefully he wasn't getting sick.

Having spotted his unsuspecting target, he sneaked over to a conveniently placed decorative vase. For once, he was glad of the unnecessary opulence of the room, since the large vase completely hid his tiny body. He pulled a self-made slingshot and a small cloth ball out of his sleeves. With a smirk and a mental evil-villain laugh, he aimed and shot true.

The cloth ball hit smack, dead-centre of the forehead of a (you guessed it) Young Master (Bully) Chu. It exploded in a magnificent cloud of white powder. It even hit the groupies that were bootlicking too closely. Immediately there was a girlish scream. Then several. The bullies started screaming and itching, scratching and spreading the powder to other areas.

That's right. Itching powder bombs, specially hand-crafted, Harry-Potter style, cash only.

It caught the attention of the adults, mostly the fussy moms, who swarmed over, as predicted. They gave him enough cover to clear out of the area and he popped back up far away from the scene of the crime. For good measure, he tugged on the sleeve of a nearby adult, with innocently wide eyes, asked, "Mister, what's going on? I can't see."

The moms, having never come across any powders but face powder, mistakenly tried to brush it off their sons and successfully transferred the contagious powder to themselves. They joined the itchy party that were now jointly screaming, "Poison! Ah! My son!"

The surrounding children and adults intelligently steered clear of the white powdery mess.

His inner Marauder fist-pumped. Boo-yah!

* * *

[1] "throwing rocks at someone who's fallen down a well" : means kicking someone while they're down.

A/N: Thank you everyone for reading, commenting, and favouriting! I'm sorry for the super late update! I'm running out of material quick. PM me if you have ideas or pranks you'd like to see. Peace!


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